by Peter Murphy
“So did you have a nice day?”
“I did, Ma, it was very nice.”
“He took the pledge too,” Granny interjected as she reached out to extract Danny.
“Look what I have for you. Come here and see.” His mother pulled him closer again and reached under her cushion for her beaded purse, one of the items she had made during arts and crafts.
She had made one for Granny too, though she never used it. She also made covers for bottles, —to turn them into lamps. Danny had one in his room, a wicker of colored plastics with a soft heart-shaped cushion edged with white lace.
She drew a clean, fresh pound note from her purse and held it up. “This is for you, pet, to celebrate the day. And,” she was enjoying herself and her smile almost chased the furrows from her brow. “Your Uncle Martin sent you this.” She reached back into her purse again and pulled out a bright ten-shilling note. “He wanted to see you today but he couldn’t wait. He was here for over an hour,” she paused for emphasis. “But he said to tell you that you’re to phone him and he’ll take you to the Grafton. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
His granny reached from behind him and took the money just as Danny’s fingers reached it. “I’ll put it with the other money I’m keeping safe for you. Don’t forget to thank your mother.”
His mother watched and a twinge of annoyance flashed across her face before she swallowed and pushed it back down inside of her. “I wanted to go and see you at the church but they wouldn’t let me. They said I wasn’t up for it.”
Her eyes filled with tears as the flickers of old regrets rose and she struggled like she was trying to avoid sliding back into the darkness inside of herself.
“There’s no need to be upsetting yourself,” Granny soothed. “I was there with him and we’re both here now.”
For a moment, his granny softened and reached out to touch his mother’s hand. “So! Are you feeling any better? I think you’re looking better but you’re very thin. Are they not feeding you at least?”
“Better?” Danny’s mother answered without taking her eyes from his face. “All they do is give me pills and tell me to pray to God.”
“Prayer is the best medicine,” his granny soothed, even as she stiffened.
“Could you not have a word with them?” his mother pleaded. “At least to get them to let me out once in a while? For Danny’s sake.”
“And why would they listen to me; I’m just an old woman. And besides, Danny’s well looked after, now.”
Danny rose and walked to the window like he wasn’t listening and watched their reflections and the breeze running free on the grass outside. It was a nice view when the sun was shining but it could get very damp and grey when it rained and sadness hung in the air.
“Would you mind if we came in?” asked the nurses who had gathered in the doorway. “We just want to say congratulations to Danny on his big day.”
They squeezed into the room crinkling their starched white linens, followed by two nuns draped in flowing black whispers. The nurses took turns squeezing him and slipping coins into his hand but the nuns just patted his cheek and handed him little medals—St. Christopher and the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
“God bless you, Danny!” They all agreed and told him he looked like a saint—or an angel.
“I’m afraid it’s getting late and we should be leaving,” Granny announced when the fuss died down, and while the presence of the nuns would discourage Jacinta from protesting. “I have to get Danny home in time for his tea.”
“But we only just got here,” Danny said, forgetting his manners and his vague understanding of the situation.
“Now Danny,” the nuns admonished.
“But I’ve hardly had a chance to see him.” Jacinta rose to take him in her arms.
“You mustn’t get excited,” the nuns reminded her. “What would the doctor say if he knew?”
The nuns pried them apart, faces stoic beneath their veils, and ushered the nurses out.
Danny’s mother smiled wearily as if there was nothing she could do. Even Danny could see that. He wanted her to say something so he could spend a few minutes with her alone but she had begun to shrivel again.
“Can I just say goodbye to Ma before we go?” He knew if he pleaded just right that he would get his way and Granny and the nuns would withdraw to the hallway outside.
But they left the door open.
“It’s so good to see you, Danny boy. I can’t believe how big you’re getting. Did your daddy call you?”
“He did, last weekend, and he says he’ll be home soon and that he is going to give me a fiver.”
“Ah, that’ll be grand.”
“But I really want him to buy me a pair of football boots, you know, like the ones Johnny Giles wears.”
“We’ll ask him, then. I’m sure he’ll know the right ones.” But she didn’t sound convincing. Her face was sad, almost without hope.
Danny searched for something to change that: “And when he comes I’m going to ask Granny if he and I can come and see you on our own.” It was all he had to offer.
“Ah, that would be lovely. That gives me something to look forward to.” She reached out to take him back into her arms.
“Danny,” his granny called from the doorway. “We have to leave now.”
Danny hesitated but his mother just nodded. “Go on now, Danny boy, and don’t be keeping your granny waiting. There’s a good boy.”
He turned again from the doorway but his mother had her head down, like she might be falling asleep, except her shoulders were shuddering a little. “Bye Ma,” he called as the nuns closed like a curtain between them, muffling any answer she might have made.
